


no i'm not afraid of the fog

by noxes



Series: the second family (the one that understands) [3]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cuddling & Snuggling, Family, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, Hugging, Humor, Kidnapping, No Sex, No Slash, No Smut, No mpreg, Omega Peni Parker, Omega Peter Parker, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Relationships, Protective Peter Parker, Sleepy Cuddles, Torture, before i start know that this is entirely platonic u fucks, ik that the a/b/o verse is fucked up but there's a few redeemable parts, its not explicit but tagging just in case, nooooooo, peni is confused, peter is embarrassed bc he's having dad feels, this is literally just fluffy cuddling ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 15:19:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxes/pseuds/noxes
Summary: (Based on a universe that I made up, where Peni ends up in Noir's universe instead of in Miles' during the events of Into the Spider-Verse, and Noir, being Parental, adopts her on sight.)Peni gets kidnapped. Peter gets angry.He says something that he regrets, and Peni wants to know what it is.





	no i'm not afraid of the fog

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Buckets_Of_Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckets_Of_Stars/gifts).



> yeah i KNOW the a/b/o verse is messed up and gross, i promise you there's nothing but fluff in here. pinky promise.

Peni woke up slowly, wincing at the pain that spiked up her back. 

 

Her head throbbed with a dull, pounding ache that made her ears ring, and she could feel cuts on her face and hands twinge as she shifted. 

 

_ Ow _ . Right. The warehouse. The men. The pain. 

 

Peter. 

 

Forcing her eyes open, Peni looked around.

 

She wasn’t in the warehouse anymore, obviously. She was in a room with a window that showed the night sky outside, a room with dark oak floors. There was a dresser in the corner. She was carefully tucked into an unfamiliar bed. 

 

She could hear water running nearby. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember what had happened.

 

Someone had...taken her. Yes. No. Several someones. Men. Big ones. 

 

A small part of her that hadn’t been screaming with terror had thought  _ isn’t this a tad overkill? _

 

They had kidnapped her… they brought her to a warehouse, asked her questions… they hit her. 

 

Ah. Well that would explain the pain. It did not, however, explain how she had gotten out. 

 

One of them had hit her in the head. Everything got foggy after that. She remembers questions. Questions about the Spider-Man. 

 

They had been asking her about his identity, and she hadn’t told them. 

 

The door opposite her clicked, and Peter stepped into the room. 

 

He wasn’t wearing his mask or his spider suit, though he was wearing a thick grey sweater, and he started when he saw her bleary brown eyes looking back at him. 

 

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said softly, crossing the room and perching on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel, dear?”

 

It took a second for her to formulate a response. “I’m...okay. Did...did I...what exactly…?”

 

Peter thankfully picked up on what she was trying to say. Resting a hand on her wrist, he stared off into the distance. 

 

“You were picked up by a coupla trigger men working for the Russian don, Vladimir. Nabbed ya in an alleyway and dragged ya up to a warehouse to ask some questions. You didn’t say anything, so they, ah...” Here he trailed off. 

 

Peni chanced a glance upward and realized he was biting down on a snarl; she could see his throat working. Grabbing his hand, she waited for him to get his emotions under control. 

 

“They beat you senseless,” he finally forced out, rubbing his thumb over the bandages on Peni’s hand and staring down at it. “They were...askin’ about me. About...him. Spider-Man.”

 

“I didn’t tell them anything,” Peni blurted. 

 

“Oh honey, I know, but I wish ya  _ had _ said something,” Peter said softly, still stroking Peni’s hand. “They hurt you to get to me, and that… that’s unacceptable, I can’t allow that.”

 

Peni huffed. Hearing Peter’s rough, Brooklyn-accented voice speaking so gently was giving her whiplash, especially considering how he was speaking last…

 

Last night. 

 

“You were there?”

 

Peter looks confused. “Uh, yes?”

 

“How’d you save me? There were s— _ ow, _ so many of them.”

 

“Careful, Pen, don’t wanna open your wounds again,” Peter warns. “And ya don’t… need to hear the details.”

 

_ Is he blushing? _

 

“Uh huh,” Peni said dubiously. “And would that be… because it was too, um, brutal? Or was it because of something el—”

 

“No, it was too messy. Yeah. That.”

 

_ He’s definitely blushing _ . 

 

“Peter,” she warned, “tell me what happened. What  _ really  _ happened.”

 

Peter groaned, face definitively pink. “Peni, it’s not—I don’t—you don’t wanna hear this—”

 

“Tell me or I’ll sit up.”

 

_ “Whoa, _ okay! Stay down, stay down, you’ll rip your stitches,” Peter fretted, pressing a hand against her shoulder and keeping her flat on the bed. 

 

Peni scowled up at him. Peter gulped and looked away. 

 

“Alright, okay,” he relented, “I’ll tell ya what happened.”

 

After Peni had been kidnapped, she’d apparently had the idea to leave a trail of some kind, and, lacking anything to make a trail with, had bitten down on her finger, opening an incision that bled readily. 

 

As she’d correctly suspected, the smell of her blood in the air had been impossible for Peter to ignore. Of course, he was scared to Hell and back, but he had gotten to the containment facility in record time. 

 

Suffice it to say that by the time he got there he was already wound tight as a spring, ready to lash out at the slightest provocation. Climbing up onto the rafters, he arrived in the main room just in time to watch one of the men whack Peni upside the head, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. 

 

He needed no other provocation. 

 

Thinking back, Peni  _ could _ remember this part, if fuzzily. She remembered the men’s cruel eyes, and how their voices grated on the inside of her rattling skull. She remembered hearing an angry, piercing cry as a piece of the darkness above her seemed to detach from the shadows and drop out of the ceiling like an avenging angel, and the accompanying rush of relief and joy. 

 

She had almost felt bad for the men. It must have seemed like an furious nightmare set upon them. 

 

Peni had heard the men crying out in surprise, yelling first in anger, then in pain. They had threatened, cajoled, bargained, and finally pleaded. Nothing swayed Peter. He tore into them with a ferocity she had never seen in him before. 

 

He hadn’t been silent, either. He had said something. Something important.

 

She couldn’t remember what it was. 

 

So (Peter continued) he had finished the men off. The last one, the biggest one, the one who had hit her head, he had left awake for a bit longer than the other. 

 

As he mentioned this, Peni recognized the darkly amused expression on his face from those last few moments of the fight, when he had immobilized the big man. She remembered how it happened.

 

Peter had gripped the man’s wrist, holding his shoulder with his other hand, and twisted his arm back little by little, until it had made a nasty crunching noise. The man had howled with pain, but Peter’s strength was inexorable; his hands were angry steel. 

 

_ “It hurts, doesn’t it?”  _ he had hissed poisonously into the man’s ear.  _ “Being in pain. Being afraid.” _

 

Of course, Peter left the details out in the retelling. One thing he did not leave out, however, was how Peni, unseen by both men, had staggered to her feet. Grabbing a metal pipe, she had hobbled forward, hunched over her cracked ribs, and swung the pipe at the guy’s face while Peter held him, knocking him out cold. 

 

She remembered. Peter had registered surprise for all of a second, but then he had stepped over the guy’s body and folded Peni into his arms as she finally broke down. 

 

The harsh, wracking sobs had made her ribs hurt and her raw throat worse, but Peter had closed her in, wrapped his coat around her and shut the world out, rubbing soothing circles into her spine and shoulders. 

 

She remembered. He had said something, in a soft, sad croon, something important. 

 

_ Oh, _ this was frustrating! Why couldn’t she remember? She knew what he had said was important! It had meant something. 

 

“Peter?” she asked into the thoughtful silence. 

 

“Mm?” Peter responded, running an absent hand through her hair, his thoughts elsewhere. 

 

“You said something to me, when you were hugging me after the fight. Right? You said something important, and I can’t remember what it was.”

 

Peter looked confused for a moment, then his eyes went wide. He coughed, and Peni noticed that his blush was back. 

 

“Ah… that? Th-that was… er… (damn it, I’d hoped you’d forgotten that…)”

 

“I heard that! What was it!” Peni said, eyes alight with mirth and curiosity. 

 

“Nothing! It was nothing!” Peter fairly squeaked, covering his face with his hands and turning away. (Which Peni wasn’t  _ thrilled  _ about, since it meant he took his hand off her head.)

 

“Peeeete…” she said warningly. “I’ll sit up!”

 

“The hell you will—I’m webbin’ ya to the bed!”

 

“Nnnno you’re not.”

 

“Peni, do  _ not-” _

 

“Alright, I’m sittin’ up!” Peni said cheerfully, starting to shift into an upright position, and  _ ow ow ow ribs hurt dang it why don’t I get a cool healing factor this is so not fair OW HOLY SSSHHHHOOT- _

 

_ “You lay right the fuck back down, Peni Parker!” _ Peter snapped, turning to grab her wrists and force her back into a lying position. 

 

But it was all a trick! A clever ruse! For as he started to pull back, taking a breath in to scold her, she twisted her hands and grabbed  _ his _ hands instead!

 

(Of course, there was no way she was stronger than him, but he cared about her enough to not try to force it, she thought.)

 

Peter’s eyes went wide behind his round glasses, and he gave his hands an experimental tug. Peni gripped tighter and shot him a look that clearly said  _ you are now my prisoner. Any attempt to escape will be SEVERELY PUNISHED. _

 

“Hon, what-” he started to ask. Peni interrupted him. 

 

“Now,” she said triumphantly, “what did you say back at the warehouse? What’s the thing that I forgot?”

 

Peter shook his head and started to pull his hands back up to his face, but Peni had a tight hold on his hands this time. 

 

Peter tugged uselessly on them again, but he couldn’t pry Peni off without hurting her (physically  _ and _ emotionally) and he knew that as well as she. She could tell by the near-panicked look in his eyes. 

 

Distantly, she wondered what could be messing with him so badly. He was extremely pink, and he wouldn’t look her in the eye. 

 

“It’s okay, Peter, I won’t judge you. What was it?” Peni said, trying to make her voice soft and reassuring like his. 

 

“Th—Peni—this isn’t really—I wasn’t supposed to—to say  _ that _ specifically-”

 

Peni’s eyes went wide. “Oh crud! Was it a code? Or a secret message that I wasn’t supposed to hear?”

 

If she’d been thinking straight, she might have registered that there was no reason for Peter to give her a code after she’d been beaten half to death and scared out of her mind, but she was still tired and foggy, and anyway Peter’s well-being came before any semblance of logic. 

 

“I’m sorry!” Peni blurted, letting go of Peter’s hands. “I shouldn’t have—oh, that was so dumb of me—stupid—I’m so sorry-”

 

“Hold on,  _ what?” _ Peter yelped. “Pen, that wasn’t what I...I-I mean…”

 

Peni wasn’t listening. “Oh my gods, I’m such an idiot, I  _ knew  _ whatever it was was important, I just didn’t think about the...the... _ crap, _ I’m sorry, I’m really sorry—”

 

“Sweetheart, that’s  _ not _ what I-”

 

“It’s okay!” Peni fairly shrieked, sitting up now regardless of the hot angry pain that coiled around her ribs. “It’s okay! I-I get it! And I shouldn’t have grabbed your hands, that was—a dick move—I’ll stop pushing about it! I promise! I’m, I’m really,  _ really _ sor-”

 

_ “I SAID I LOVED YOU, YA BIG DUMB IDIOT,” _ Peter yelled through his fingers.

 

There was a rather long silence, Peter’s hands still over his face, Peni silently reeling.

 

“...oh,” she finally said in a small voice.

 

“Yeah,” Peter said, muffled.

 

_ I love you. _

 

Oh yes. Now she remembered.

 

She remembered his arms closing around her, pulling the big black coat around them both and making her world small and dark and warm. She had pressed her face against his stomach, into the thick fabric of his sweater, and inhaled. And yeah, he had smelled a little like blood and sweat, but underneath that it was still him.

 

His scent had become so distinctive to her, even without her realizing it. Things like  _ safety  _ and  _ home _ and maybe even  _ love _ came to mind when she caught his scent in the air. 

 

And she did love him. She did. So much.

 

She just had never even entertained the possibility that he might love her back. And sure, she knew he  _ cared, _ but love? No. Ridiculous.

 

But there she had been, with her face shoved into his belly and his gloved hands pressing against her head, her back, keeping her against him.

 

And...then... _ yes. _ Yes, she remembered. As he had bent down to hold her better, she had caught a few whispered words.

 

_ “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so, so sorry. I never...I never meant for this to happen to ya, I…” _

 

_ “I love you.” _

 

And she had been in pain, had a nasty concussion, had not known what it meant. The words hadn’t registered in her mind. She had merely buried her face in the crook of his neck, instincts dictating that she find the scent that calmed her, slowed her heart. 

 

She hadn’t even registered that he had willingly bared his scent marks to her. 

 

_ I love you.  _

 

And then, staring at his hands covering his face, she remembered what he had said, as he leaped down from the rafters of he warehouse, light reflecting off the barrel of his pistol and the glass in his lenses, angry snarl visible even through his black mask. 

 

_ “GET AWAY FROM MY PUP!”  _ he had yelled.

 

_ My pup.  _

 

Peter groaned into his hands. “It just—slipped out—you were scared, and I was still panicking…”

 

“Did,” Peni said, drawing in a sharp breath when Peter peeked at her through his fingers. “...did you mean it? When you said...you know. And the, the other thing, before then…”

 

Peter stared at her for a minute longer before his broad shoulders slumped and he pulled his hands away from his face with a deep sigh. 

 

“...yes,” he admitted quietly. “Yes, I did mean it. I do. Love you, I mean. With...with all my heart.”

 

Peni felt like her chest was going to explode. (In a good way, this time.) 

 

“I love you, too,” she blurted out suddenly. “A lot. And it’s...with the-with the ‘pup’ thing… you—frick, you’re more of a dad to me then my real father was, and it’s. It’s okay, you know? I was just too nervous to say anything. I thought maybe…”

 

She gulped. “I thought maybe it’d drive you away. Or that you...you wouldn’t want me to be your kid and everything would be weird after that. And we’re such good friends, and I didn’t want to… ruin that.”

 

Peni gazed at him imploringly. “Does that...does that make sense? I know sometimes I don’t make sense, so…”

 

Peter stared at her, face unreadable, and for the slightest of moments Peni thought she had somehow mucked it all up again, driven away yet another person who she cared about, who could maybe care about her. 

 

Then he reached out and took her face in his hands, palms wide and rough and sturdy, fingers long and a few of them slightly crooked. She reached up to put her hand over his at the same time that he leaned forward. 

 

And then his lips were pressing against her forehead, right in the center, soft and gentle and careful. 

 

Peni went still, trying not to move and mess up the moment, her hands still resting on top of Peter’s, mind singing and buzzing with joy and shock.

 

She wanted this singular minute to last forever, even though she knew he’d pull away soon. 

 

Except he didn’t. Peter kissed her again in the same spot, more firmly this time, then proceeded to plant kisses all over her face, brushing his lips over the tip of her nose, on her cheeks, under her eyes and on her eyelids, pressing kisses into her hairline and her temples. 

 

Peni started to giggle when he hit a ticklish spot, and once she started laughing she couldn’t stop, except she was maybe crying a little bit too. Maybe. 

 

Peter kissed her tears away, brushing away what he couldn’t catch with the pads of his thumbs. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against hers for a long minute. 

 

Peni was trying to get her happy tears under control when she heard a deep growl, only it was more like...a happy growl. A purr. 

 

_ Yes. That’s right. Some species of spiders purr. Sometimes when I’m really happy, I purr.  _

 

And then she realized that Peter was purring—actually purring! She had never heard him purr before.  _ Never. _ His purr was deeper than hers, and a bit rougher too, like his voice. She liked it. 

 

Though she hadn’t purred for a while, now. People back in her time thought it was weird—it served as yet another barrier between her and everyone else. And there was never overly much for her to be really happy about. 

 

But she was happy now. 

 

A soft purr of her own responded to Peter’s, sounding a bit more like the coo of a dove. Startled, he pulled back and stared at Peni. 

 

“You too, huh,” he said, face slowly splitting into the widest, happiest smile she had ever seen him make. Bending forward again, he kissed the space right between her eyes, smiling when she purred back at him.

 

“Alright,” he suddenly said, pulling back, “budge up, sunshine. I’m gettin’ in.”

 

“Pete, c’mon,” she whined, laughing.

 

“It’s my bed! Come on, scoot!”

 

Still laughing, Peni scooched over, letting him slip gracefully onto the bed beside her. She marveled at how he moved like his joints were made of water.

 

“Like a cat,” she said decidedly. “Like a big, squishy cat.”

 

“Hey,” Peter said, leveling her with a  _ look. _ “I’m not fat.”

 

In response, Peni rolled over and flopped an arm across his stomach, resting her head on it and snuggling in.

 

“Little gremlin,” Peter grumbled, somehow still finding it in himself to rest both hands on her back. Peni laughed, then winced and took a sharp breath. Peter noticed, because of course he did.

 

“Ya ready to go back to sleep, hon?” He prompted gently. Peni weakly protested, but she was in pain and extremely tired, and regardless of how Peter grumbled, his stomach was soft and comfortable.

 

And he loved her.

 

The thought made her start purring all over again. And of course, that got Peter started too.

 

What a pair they must have made, the two of them purring together. They were probably making the whole bed rattle (which was mostly Peter’s fault) but Peni couldn’t bring herself to care. She was, for once, okay with being soft and vulnerable. Just for a bit.

 

“You meant it, right?” she asked drowsily, just before she dropped off. “What you said?”

 

Peter hummed and lightly squeezed the back of her neck.

 

“Every word, Peni,” he promised. “I meant every word.”

 

Peni smiled and fell asleep.

 

And Peter, smiling giddily at the ceiling and pulling the blankets up further over his pup, thought about how to break the news to May and MJ that he was a father now.

**Author's Note:**

> he's a parent :D


End file.
